Happy Brithday
by Breeze1
Summary: Well, its a birthday, but whether it's happy or not... Oh, and if you guys would like me to continue this story than please let me know. :)


Disclaimer: I don't own them. Sci-Fi and somebody else does though.

Warnings: Well, I had intended to make it a slash, so I did, but I just wasn't in the mood to make it into anything more than slight actions and impressions. J Enjoy.

Happy Birthday

The day started off just like every other day, but that was the only thing that remained consistent. Hobbes had come by in his beat up van, which he claimed was in tip-top condition, Darien had jumped into the passenger seat and started his morning ritual of complaints. Hobbes nodded a few times, made a comment or two, but that had been it. That was the first suspicion that something was wrong.

When they arrived at the "department of fish and games" they parked across the street and headed up to see the Official. As usual, Eberts was standing behind the big man, staring intently at the T.V that was on the desk. He noted with smug satisfaction that both men jumped as his hands slapped the desktop, creating a loud bang.

"Morning guys. Anything interesting on?" He moved around to check look at the screen, but the Official quickly shut it off.

"You guys are early today." Eberts speculated. "I'm impressed."

"Yes well, we like to throw a little adventure into your lives occasionally." Hobbes quipped and happily met Eberts glare with a casual smirk.

"Well, it would be a shame for me to not return the favor," The official spoke up. "So you guys are going to be pulling traffic duty today, courtesy of the FBI." They stared at him blankly for a moment before Darien realized that he was serious.

"Traffic duty? You're kidding right?"

"Do I appear to be laughing here?" He replied with a grin on his face. He leaned forward and handed a file to Darien, who took it and gave Hobbes a moment to snatch it away. When the usual act never came he opened it up to reveal the picture of one car. A Black BMW shone in all its glory on the glossy paper. It was a 2000 model, and very nice at that. He handed it to Hobbes who barely glanced at it before tossing the folder on the desk.

"So what does it have to do with us?" He questioned. Darien waited for the reply, and he didn't have to wait long.

"Illegal animal smuggling. This car is supposedly the transportation vehicle. Today, around noon, it should be driving by your assigned post. All you're supposed to do is pull it over, check it out and arrest the guys inside."

"That doesn't seem like anything big. Why don't you just hand it over to the locals?"

"They didn't want it, said it would best be handled by a department who "dealt" with animals." His grin grew and Darien leaned forward in his seat, a question on his lips.

"Just exactly what kind of animals are you talking about here?" The answer came to him, but not from the person he expected it come from.

"Snakes." Hobbes said in that smug voice.

"Snakes?" Darien found himself dumbly replying. He hated snakes, slithering, disgusting little things.

"You got it. Dangerous ones too, lot's of fangs and poison. The bigger ones though, the Boa's, they come stuffed with uncut drugs. Nasty business." Darien looked at him a moment, not sure if he was just trying to scare him.

"How the hell did you know that?" The Official demanded, surprise evident in his voice.

"Bobby Hobbes knows things. He ain't no fool." The short man replied standing up. "Common Fawkes, if you decide to actually get out of that chair we could grab something to eat on the way.

"Food. Sounds good, what's on the menu?" He asked leaving the office dwellers behind.

"Snake."

"Anyone one ever tell you how hilarious you are? Seriously, I'm cracking up here." Darien found himself replying sarcastically. None the less he followed his partner to another section of the building, where they changed into traffic uniforms. He admired himself in the mirror a moment, and allowed a small smile. He had to admit he looked damn good in a uniform. His eyes fell on Hobbes, who was slipping on his ever-present sunglasses, and he found himself admiring him as well. Woah, don't go there man. They were partners and that was it. In the sense of work that is…he looked up to find Hobbes looking at him, but his eyes were covered by the dark shades.

"Ready?"

"No."

"Good, you get to search the car for our slithering friends."

"What! I don't think so. You're the tough guy, you can handle that part." He replied, following the order of their usual banter. He glanced at Bobby when he didn't reply, and noticed that the man seemed caught up in his own thoughts. Darien shrugged to himself and decided to let the guy think, it wasn't often Hobbes let him have his way.

()()()()()()()()()()()

The whole deal had gone like they had expected it: good, but with a small bit of bad. Well, it went badly at first. The car had showed up at Hobbe's corner and he'd waved the guys over. When Darien had walked over to help his partner, he saw a gun pointed at him. That had pissed him off; couldn't they get through one mission without one of them getting threatened?

To reply to the threat he had run into an alley and quickly quicksilvered, but by the time he made it back Bobby seemed to have everything under control. The three smugglers had been handcuffed to a lamppost and Hobbes was leaning against the car. Darien had turned around to head back to the alley so he could turn visible again but he stopped dead when he heard Hobbes mutter "Hurry up man, I ain't searching this damn car." He wasn't sure if Hobbes had actually known he was there or had only been talking to himself.

He came back to the car grinning at his partner and proceeded to check the car for the reptiles. He found them, under a blanket in the trunk, in their individual cages of course. Hobbes had come around and whistled at the catch.

"Nice selection. Definitely big on the market this year."

"Why would people want to buy those things. They're poisonous and disgusting…"

"You afraid o snake Fawkes? A tough guy like you?" And that had pretty much been their afternoon. The Feds had come, Bobby had glared, they glared back, and that had been the end of it. The man sure knew how to make friends.

The ride back had been boring, Bobby was once again lost in his own little world, and Darien had begun to wonder about him. He was never just quiet like this, for any apparent reason, and it unnerved him more than the usual paranoia. 

When they got back to the department Darien had headed to the Keeper for his shot and now found himself sitting in her chair of pain, or so he'd classified it.

"Where's your partner?" He perked up at her question, definitely a good opening line.

"You miss him or something?" She rolled her eyes and pretended to ignore the question. "I think you like him?" He smiled triumphantly when he noticed a slight blush forming on her cheeks, but the feeling was short lived when he felt a pang of jealousy strike through him. Jealous? Of Hobbes? No way, he was able to stand the Keeper, but he had no romantic feelings for her whatsoever. So where had the jealousy come from?

"I was just curious. You guys seem attached at the hip, I was wondering what separated you." She covered it smoothly but he could still detect the slight tinge in her cheeks.

Attached at the hips? What the hell was she talking about? They were partners, they were supposed to be around here together. It made sense to him at first, but then he realized that she was right, he had been spending a lot of time with Bobby lately. Especially since he'd been in the hospital from that head wound. He rolled his eyes and stood to see her looking at him expectantly.

"What?"

"I don't want to see you here for three days."

"Well, its nice to know my company is appreciated." She sighed.

"Let me re-phrase that then: I don't want to see you here for any shots in the next three days."

"The only shots I plan on having come from a bottle." She glared at him and turned back to the work he'd interrupted. Taking that as his dismissal he walked out the door, only to be stopped again by her calling out.

"Darien. Wish your partner a happy birthday for me, and if he asks about any gifts, inform him my charming personality should be enough."

"Yeah, sure." He called and left without another word. His birthday? He hadn't said anything about it before. He felt a pang of guilt that he hadn't known, not that it should matter. The guy hadn't told him, therefore he shouldn't care. Even though, he still felt guilty. Maybe that's why he'd been quiet all day. Even as he thought this he knew it didn't add up, and he felt a longing to find out what was up with his partner.

He searched the building for Hobbes, only to find out that he had left already. He tried to shrug it off, knowing that it always happened, but he'd wanted to say something. He walked outside and took a cab back to his place.

He gathered his mail from the box and headed up the stairs into the empty apartment. He stood for a moment and looked around at the pizza box on the counter and the clothing lying everywhere. He began to clean it all up, needing the distraction to take his mind his partner, but for some reason he couldn't. Eventually he gave up and grabbed his jacket. He was going to go and talk to Bobby. He just wanted to be with him for a while.

Arriving at his partner's home he rang the doorbell and frowned when there was no answer. Where could he be at this time of night? He walked back to his car and slumped in the drivers seat, thinking. After a moment he turned on the ignition and headed to that bar Hobbes had taken him to once. It was as good a place to start as any.

A little while later he found himself walking into the slightly smoky atmosphere. It was the same place he'd been before, except that this time no one was throwing greetings towards him, not without Bobby there. He quickly grabbed a seat at a side table and looked around. He was beginning to think that he'd chosen the wrong place when he finally spotted his target tucked away in a booth, alone.

He watched him for a few minuets, not knowing what to think. The whole atmosphere of the bar seemed somewhat subdued and Darien had the slight impression it was because of Hobbes who was usually, or so he claimed the life of the party. He didn't know what to do. If he approached him it could be taken the wrong way, and he didn't have any good reasons to be there, not really any ways. 

So Darien sat there, watching him, his every move. He noticed that his drink wasn't touched, probably only there for show, his hands turning the cool glass slowly. His face was lost in thought, but Darien had no idea what those thoughts held. After awhile a woman approached Hobbes's table and sat down quietly across from him. She was a looker all right. Long legs, flowing red hair, and an outfit to kill. She leaned forward and caressed Bobby's cheek, but his hand came up to still hers. He spoke a few words and smiled appreciatively before she stood, leaving him alone once again. 

It seemed Bobby Hobbes had just turned away one of the best looking women Darien had ever seen. Though Darien felt that jealousy spiking again, he was more concerned that his friend had turned her down than he was about anything else. Bobby Hobbes wasn't one to turn offers like that down, or so Darien had thought. 

A few minuets later another person approached his table and sat down. This time Darien was surprised, for this person was a guy. A good looking one at that and he found himself comparing himself to him. Stop it, he told himself. You are not going to start comparing yourself to other men. Even as he said that he noted the short, curly black hair on the top of the mans head, and the loose fitting shirt which showed off his figure nicely. This man, who Darien noted, was around his own age, sat with Bobby, talking quietly and reaching under the table to rub his leg suggestively.

Darien watched in astonishment. Hobbes, Mr. I'm the straightest guy you ever met, was letting another man come onto him? Darien watched silently, and was glad when the young man got up and left. He didn't want anyone bothering his Bobby. Now that thought caused him to break his gaze and stare at his own table. His Bobby? When had he started thinking of him that way? It was true that Darien had been with guys before and everything, and probably would be again. But Hobbes? They had nothing in common; in fact when they had first met they had hated each other. Now they had built a friendship, but they were still not solid on it, and he was thinking of Hobbes as "his". This wasn't what he had hoped to be thinking about tonight.

His thoughts were interrupted when a woman with dark hair sat across from him, placing a drink on his side of the table. He gazed at her, not knowing what she wanted, but he thought he recognized her.

"You looked lonely, I thought I'd come and keep you company." She said sweetly and flapped her eyelids. Usually he would have jumped at her sudden invitation but not now, not with Bobby the center of his thoughts.

"Thanks, but I'm not really interested tonight…" he trailed off when she smiled knowingly and looked across the room at Hobbes. He felt his cheeks heating up and cursed his fair skin, it always betrayed him.

"Not interested in me perhaps." She looked back at him, somewhat serious, a light French accent floating with her voice. "Our Bobby doesn't seem to want any company tonight, but he might make an exception for you." He looked at her curiously.

"Why do you say that?" His need to know carried in his voice and he silently cursed at himself again. She smiled.

"You came here with him a while ago, non?"

"Yes, I did. But that doesn't mean anything, we're just friends."

"Yes, but that means a lot. You see, our Bobby has never shown up here with anybody, but he usually leaves with someone." She smiled blissfully a moment before continuing. "I saw the look in his eyes when he was walking around with you. It was his way of saying that you were with him, even if not on an actual date." He stared at her dumbly. Was she trying to say Bobby wanted him?

"Ever since then he has not gone home with anyone, much to our disappointment. We miss him, but can no longer offer what he wants."

"What exactly does he want?"

"I think you know, after all, you are here." She smiled and stood, leaving him alone once again. He shook his head and stared at his drink for a moment. Did everyone talk in code around here? He looked over to his partner again, only to find the table empty, except for a glass full of amber liquid. Darien searched the room and saw Hobbes waving goodbye to the patrons as he left through the swinging glass doors.

Darien stood and followed him; his gaze catching the woman's who had sat with him. She smiled warmly and he felt himself returning the gesture before he was past her and heading to his car. He followed the small black sports car that Bobby owned. He'd insisted that he had to keep up his style somehow, and that Darien hadn't been helping, so he'd bought the car.

When he finally stopped driving it was in the garage where he kept it locked up, and Darien found himself parking across the street. He got out of the car and moved with long strides towards the front door, where he stopped. What was he doing here? He wasn't going to just march up there and throw himself at his partner. He had to have a plan.

He stood there for a few minuets, staring at the panel in the wall. Did he really want to go up there?

"Hey Fawkes, you want to get up here and tell me what you want?" Bobby's voice cut through the speaker and he jumped. A second later he found himself climbing the stairs to the third floor, the floor his partner lived on.

He didn't knock, just walked in. The man was expecting him, though how he'd known he was down there he had no clue. When he got his first glimpse of the place he had stopped and just looked around. It was like one huge room with furniture thrown in for the hell of it. Windows covered the one side, and a staircase, on the far wall, led up to a floor with a railing for the wall. That second floor looked like the bedroom, but he couldn't tell. The kitchen was to the right, the living room with a large TV, some chairs and couches and a coffee table were by the windows in the center of the place and there were two doors on the wall beneath the second floor. It was decorated with and assortment of plants, pictures, certificates, a flag, and posters. Pretty much what he had expected, without the plants. 

He looked up as Bobby came down the stairs in jeans and a shirt and headed to the kitchen.

"Hungry?" He asked and casually pulled out a bowl of salad.

"No, I'm good thanks." He looked around for a topic to break the uncomfortable silence.

"I never thought a guy as paranoid as you would have so many windows." The man grinned, almost sadly at first and then cocky.

"They're bullet proof." He replied, and for some reason that comment didn't surprise Darien at all.

"And I guess that TV's only channel is the lobbies security camera."

"Nah, I got my own system set up. Those lobby camera's couldn't spot an elephant getting stuck in the damn door." Hobbes held out a beer and Darien took it with a nod of thanks. They sat at the bar and talked about anything that came to mind while Hobbes ate his salad. Was that all the guy was going to eat? Darien held back his comment, he wasn't entitled to the right of nagging about his partners eating habits, yet. He realized that this was actually the first time they had just hung out and talked. Like friends. 

When the man finally finished his meal he turned to face Darien, a curious look on his face, and Darien knew what the guy was going to ask. He was actually surprised that it had taken him this long to get to it. Suddenly Darien felt panicked. Did he really want to get into a conversation about how he was beginning to feel about Bobby? That was the whole reason he was here in the first place, right? No, he couldn't do that, not yet. It was still to early for him to be sure of his feelings, he needed to sort them out, figure out what was going on. So instead of allowing Bobby to ask the first question he asked his own, one that had been bugging him since his chat with the Keeper.

"You never mentioned anything about your birthday. You don't think I needed to know or something?" He tried to make the statement sound light, but he was a little hurt about the small deception. When his birthday had come he'd made sure everyone was aware of it. The whole department actually, but that had been another day and this was now.

Hobbes looked a little surprised for a moment and then turned away, avoiding eye contact.

"It ain't all that important, but if you want to get me something I accept nothing under fifty bucks. I have style you know." His tone was light, convincing, and Darien didn't buy it for a second, because he'd seen it used with this man before. Too many times.

"Well, it was important enough for the keeper to mention. You ran off before she could give you her gift."

"Yeah." He said that one word dismissevly, like he didn't really care.

"Yeah, so you didn't answer my question." Darien egged on. Hobbes looked back at him, mild annoyance shone in his eyes, though he feigned ignorance.

"I did so."

"No, I asked you why you didn't tell me, you're partner, the guy who is supposed to know stuff like that just so he can play some pranks and stuff."

"I said it wasn't important."

"Why?"

"Because I said so!"

"And that's it?"

"The whole dollar."

"Then why do you act so depressed? Oh, wait, that would be because it actually does mean something to you. Who would have thought."

"Leave it alone Fawkes. I just didn't want people making any fuss over it."

"What if people wanted to make a fuss over it?" The question had seemed innocent enough to Darien, but it was obviously the wrong one to ask when Hobbes's eyes met his for a moment before turning away, anger in their depths.

"Who the hell would want to make a fuss over it, huh? It doesn't matter to people, it ain't something they want hanging over their heads. Besides that, I don't exactly know anyone who really cares to enough to even send a card." This confession stunned Darien into a moment of awkward silence. How was he supposed to answer that one when he had no idea what to say.

"Look," Hobbes decided to break the silence. "I appreciate you thinking about me and everything, but I really don't matter all that much."

"YOU really don't matter all that much?" What the hell was the guy saying?

"No, it doesn't matter all that much. My Birthday."

"You just said that "you" didn't matter all that much."

"I am pretty sure I said "it", you trying to twist my words around again Fawkes? It ain't working." They held each other's glares for a moment and Darien found himself wanting to help his partner try and figure him out.

Robert Hobbes was a mystery to him. He was just beginning to realize that, he knew next to nothing about the guy. They were partners, Hobbes had been with him whenever he was feeling low about the whole gland thing, or life in general. He'd always seemed willing to help out. Hell, when Darien had thought his brother was alive Hobbes had believed him and was willing to turn against the agency to help him. Hobbes knew about his family, his life, and pretty much everything else. He'd had to, it was his job. 

When Darien had tried to access the agency's computer personnel files, Hobbes had been classified and he couldn't get the password. So, he knew a little about the guy, his paranoia, his ex-wife, the lithium, the fact that at one point he'd been FBI, and even possibly been in the army. But that was it. Beyond that the guy was a mystery, and even the stuff he knew wasn't clear to him. Darien leaned back in his chair and stared at the shorter man, and wished for a moment that he could read the mans thoughts.

"Did you ever celebrate it with you family or anything?" He questioned, needing some answers to his new enigma.

"You gonna drop this?"

"No."

"Fine." The man glared and turned his eyes away again, not wanting Darien to be able to read the emotions that might be portrayed.

"My family didn't care. We never celebrated my birthday, they were usually off at some party or something getting wasted. If they remembered they might say happy birthday, but that was it."

"Friends?"

"Friends, right. I lived in a city, worked full time night shift when was 15 at a damn all night grocery store so we could afford the rent. I went to school, but up with the crap I got from my life style, dropped out joined the Navy, became an agent. No room for friends." He looked back at Darien, his eyes closed to emotion. "I appreciate you're concern, but don't bother yourself, it doesn't matter. Now, I need to get sleep before I get up to catch the baddies with you tomorrow, and I'm sure that million dollar mind needs its rest too." That was it, Darien's invitation to leave. He got up and nodded. Leaving without another word.

If Hobbes wasn't up to talking he could respect that. He supposed that over time he would find more pieces to the puzzle, but until then he was pretty sure he would stay as the mans partner, and, if he allowed it, possibly a good friend. Darien walked back to his car, and empty home with a new place in his heart reserved for one Bobby Hobbes, whether the guy wanted it or not. 

On the third floor Hobbes looked at his chest in the bathroom mirror, a finger lightly tracing the largest of a few scars on his front. He stared with his usual unattached air. He remembered that scar, very well. His father's voice echoing in his head "Happy Birthday you dumb shit." He sighed and threw on his T-shirt, heading to his bed upstairs. He glanced over his home, the light in the kitchen was still on, as always, allowing him a clear view of the surroundings he knew off by heart.

He lay lightly on his bed and closed his eyes, knowing that the dreams that plagued him would soon come. Happy birthday you worthless shit he thought, and drifted off to sleep.

END

Okay, now is the time I beg pitifully for feedback. Please? 


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